


"Always Fixing Me - parts I to IV"

by a_carnal_mink



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Porn, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_carnal_mink/pseuds/a_carnal_mink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they had sex, the first time they fucked, and the first time they made love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Always Fixing Me - parts I to IV"

**Author's Note:**

> Website: [weltonbmarsland.com](https://weltonbmarsland.com/)

  
  
**Part I – Mr Trickster mightn't like him, but Dean's definitely persuadable**  


  
The first time they had sex, it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. Dean and Sam had got out of the Trickster's – hell, out of _Gabriel's_ television world, had got Cas back from wherever the little bastard had sent him, and had got back on the road. A bit less than six hours later, Sam was holed up in a Muskogen motel with his laptop and Dean was sitting on the hood of his car on the shores of Lake Michigan, watching the lights of boats 'cos there was too much cloud-cover to see any stars.

'Dean.'

Dean turned his head slightly to his right and looked at Castiel leaning against the fender right next to him. 'Everything okay, Cas? Recovered from whatever your bitch of a brother threw at you back there?'

Cas nodded once. 'I'm well. Thank-you.'

Moving carefully in deference to his baby's paintwork, Dean manoeuvred himself to the edge of the car, putting his legs over the side so that he could sit next to where Cas was standing, their shoulders almost touching. 'Was it more TV shows?'

Castiel's shoulders seemed to stiffen slightly at the question. 'I, I can only presume… yes.'

'Sorry you got caught up in all that. Thanks for not giving up on us though.'

'I'm not much inclined to "giving up", Dean.'

Dean smiled and crossed his arms. 'Yeah. I've kinda noticed.'

Cas looked at Dean's crossed arms then back up to his face. 'The night's turning colder.'

'It's the wind coming in off the lake. But you're right, it's getting too cold out here.' Dean slid down off the car and dug into his jeans pocket for the car keys. He didn't have to tell Cas to follow him, just gave him an eyebrow-raise and walked around to the driver's side. When he got in and closed his door, Cas was already sitting in the passenger seat, hands resting on his knees.

Dean put the keys into the ignition but didn't turn the engine over. Instead, he leaned back in his seat a little, stretching his legs as much as room allowed, and gave his angel a long sideways look.

"Pretty", Gabriel had had the Japanese gameshow host call Castiel. It had given Dean a moment's pause, he had to admit (even if it was just to himself). Even in the midst of that garish show, with his feet strapped to a podium and a plastic ball waiting to thwack him in the balls, the expression "pretty boy angel" had made Dean think for a second or two. Cas had certainly chosen a good-looking dude for his vessel, there was no denying that. But Dean didn't think "pretty" was the best description. It was too girly, too feminising, and that just didn't sit with Jimmy Novak's large hands and firm jaw, his stubble darker and more manly than even Dr Sexy could manage.

Cas turned his head Dean's way and met his gaze, his eyes still managing to be blue, even with fuck all light making its way into the interior of the car. They were good at this, Dean and Castiel. Good at staring at each other. Good at making personal space dwindle. Good at reeling each other in. Fact was that Cas could look at him like he really wanted to mark Dean up if he could just work out where to start, and Dean could give it back just as good.

'Dean?' Nothing girly about that voice either, of course. Deep and smoky, an angel voice vibrating against human vocal cords with all the subtlety of gravel skinning a limb joint. It cut right into Dean, scraped at him, made him wanna get down low and husky right back at it.

'Cas.' The syllable barely even made it passed Dean's lips, he was hardly _saying_ it – more like exhaling it. And then Dean was moving, getting his legs up under himself and kneeing the short distance across the benchseat to Castiel's lap, throwing one leg over and settling himself down there heavily, straddled over Cas, all up in his space, making the car squeak on its suspension.

Castiel's arms came around him, held him there over his lap, and when their mouths collided, Cas actually pushed his hips up a little, angling up into Dean's crotch, as if Jimmy's body was holding onto enough physical instinct to react appropriately. All heat and immediacy, the two of them just crashed into each other's bodies, both of them solid and needy, grasping and gasping and going to town on each other like they were starving. Dean could swear on a stack of bibles that he hadn't felt this horny since he was a teenager.

It was all hands and mouths for several minutes, Dean fighting his way inside Cas' clothes while their tongues stroked at each other, Cas' long fingers deftly snapping open Dean's belt then fumbling at his zipper. Dean managed to leave off stroking Cas' throat and chest long enough to get a hand down there and help out with the zipper situation, sighing against Castiel's mouth when the pressure of his jeans against his dick was eased.

'Dean… How… ?'

'Shh, Cas, it's okay. Here.' Dean made short work of Jimmy's belt and fly, getting his hand inside the tented boxers and pulling out a beautifully hard cock, loving the weight of it in his fingers as he held it against his own dick and pressed them together. 'Like that? Hm, Cas?'

Castiel had tipped his head back onto the top of the seat behind him, long pale throat undulating as he swallowed loudly and groaned. Dean shifted his body weight slightly, moving his knees a little further apart so he could thrust a bit better. He moved his hand out of the way and pressed forward, trapping their dicks together between both their stomachs, and started a slow, dirty grind.

'That's good,' he whispered into Cas' ear. 'So fuckin' good, Cas.'

Cas spread his hands wide across Dean's ass and pulled him into each stroke, rolled his head to the side so as to catch Dean's lips into another scorching kiss, then surprised the hell outta Dean by pushing one hand down the back of Dean's jeans, kneading his ass roughly and letting his fingertips slide into the crack.

'Holy – !' Dean jolted at the intimate touch, felt his cock leak all over Castiel's. He hit his head on the car ceiling and didn't fucking care. He pushed a hand between their bellies and took hold of their dicks, pressing them together good and hard as they both pushed up into his fist, precome from them both dribbling between his fingers.

'Gonna come,' Dean hissed, 'gonna come on your fucking cock, Cas.' Whenever he was at his most turned on, he invariably started babbling stupid porno shit. Just couldn't help it, once his brain was that far gone on the endorphin freak-on. 'You want me to? Yeah, Cas? Want me to do that?'

'Dean. Yes.'

God, that voice sliced right into him, lit Dean up from the inside out. He and Cas slammed into orgasm more or less together, both dicks in his hand harder than ever and spurting in unison, their mingling come slicking them both up so dirty and hot and wet.

Cas made a surprised, choked-off sound and pressed his forehead to Dean's sternum, his first orgasm making him pliant in Dean's arms, filling Dean with the impulse to pet him and soothe him through the aftershocks.

Not that Dean would be given much opportunity to do so. The come smeared between them was still warm when Cas lifted his head and gave Dean an unfathomable, vaguely sad look. Dean didn't even get a chance to ask what was up before Cas disappeared, leaving Dean to pitch forward suddenly into the back of the seat, swearing and fumbling and _getting spunk all over his baby's upholstery_.

'Sonofafuckingbitch!'

A week and a half later, when Cas finally showed his face around the Winchesters again, he gave Dean no acknowledgement of what had transpired between them in the front seat of Dean's car.

Dean could take a hint.

 

  
**Part II – Not so nerdy from this angle**  


  
The first time they fucked, Cas had given Dean a beat-down that even Dean had to admit was impressive, then had dragged his sorry ass back to Bobby's panic room, mojo'd the door and peephole shut and given him a look of such infinite sadness that Dean's only impulse was to try and provoke the guy to do it all over again.

'C'mon, Cas.' Dean stood in front of him, toe to toe, and lifted his chin defiantly. 'Just fucking do it.'

'Do… what, exactly?'

'Round Two, man. Finish what you started.'

Cas sighed. 'Do I need to?' A pause, a slight head-tilt, and – 'Do you need me to?'

Dean's lack of come-back got the two of them just standing there, staring at each other like so many times before. Then Cas slowly shook his head and moved away, his steps heavy. Dean hung his head, feeling his temples throb from the pressure, and listened to Cas pacing behind him.

'I found it interesting, Dean.'

Dean snorted a little. Trust Castiel to want to get into a conversation now. 'Yeah? What?' he threw over his shoulder tersely.

'The way you chose three different tacks to push away Bobby and Sam and myself.'

Dean had no idea what the fuck Cas was on about, so he just kept his mouth shut.

'With Bobby, you used his paternal feelings. With Sam, you concentrated on the fraternal bond. With me…'

Frustrated, Dean turned Cas' direction and prompted him. 'With you, what?'

Cas gave him one of those looks that lasered straight into the core of Dean's being. 'With me, you used sex.'

It'd been months – months! – since coming on each other in the front seat of the Impala. Months since horny fuckin' kisses and cocks sliding together and fingers in Dean's asscrack, and not one single acknowledgement of it ever fucking happening. And now, after everything they'd been through, after carrying Cas across the threshold of a bridal suite and sharing his food with him and being led through Heaven by him and helping him deal with his Daddy crap and letting him beat the crap outta him and everyfuckingthing else that had happened, now they were finally gonna face it. With bruises that corresponded to Cas' knuckles still blooming on Dean's face, they were finally gonna own up to the fact that they'd got nasty with each other, that they knew what noises each other made when they came. Last person who looked at Dean like that… indeed, he did get laid.

'So we're acknowledging this now?' Dean sneered a little. 'Took you long enough to man up, Cas.' He got into his nerd angel's personal space. 'How's about a different sort of "Round Two", then, hm? I noticed you made sure that door's staying closed.'

Cas reached a hand toward Dean's face and Dean kinda hated himself for it but he actually flinched a tiny bit at the movement. Cas noticed and winced just slightly, making a placating gesture before moving in again and gently drawing his fingertips across Dean's top lip. His fingers came away bloody and Dean watched, fascinated, as those fingers went next to Cas' mouth, tongue darting out to lick Dean's blood away and taste it.

'Taste good?' Dean murmured, eyes still fixed on Cas' mouth.

Instead of answering his question, Cas said only, 'I didn't set out to hurt you.'

Dean let his gaze travel up to Castiel's eyes, so big and blue and looking at him like Dean was the whole world. 'Didn't set out to hurt you either, y'know.'

'And yet you're still intent upon giving yourself to Michael?'

'I don't see as I've got a whole lotta options!'

'You don't trust us. Not your family? Not me?'

'When none of you will trust me?!'

'I have trusted you with EVERYTHING, Dean!'

Dean caught the motion, just on the bottom edge of his vision; Cas was clenching his hands into fists again. 'Still angry, Cas? Still wanna take it out of me?'

Castiel's self-control reasserted itself and his fists uncurled again. His glare softened just a tiny way. 'You are… an infuriating man.'

'It's been said.'

Dean barely had the words out before Cas was grabbing hold of him, spinning him around and bending him over the wooden desk. The solid weight of him was tight against Dean's back, his body moulding perfectly to Dean's, his arms strong and unrelenting around Dean's bruised ribcage. In a flurry of movement, Dean's jeans and underwear ended up around his ankles, Cas' clothing was arranged just so in order for his dick to press between Dean's legs.

'Fuck, Cas!'

'You'd best be quiet.' Spoke right up against his ear. 'You know that this room isn't sound-proof.'

Dean gulped down a breath, let it rattle in his chest a moment. 'Do it!' he hissed quietly. 'Just do it already!' He was halfway sure that was the second time tonight he'd goaded Cas on with those exact words.

Castiel seemed to be more inclined to obey his command now than he had in the alleyway earlier, as he guided the wet heat of his cock to Dean's hole, letting it rub back and forth over it and around it.

'You'll have to use, uh, spit, I guess,' Dean murmured over his shoulder, already mentally willing himself to fucking relax already. He heard Cas licking his palm, slicking his cock quickly, then his vision swam as the pain of being split nearly in two careened through him. There was nothing else for it but to put his head onto his braced arms, bite down on the back of his own hand, and take it like a man.

It was rough and dirty, undignified in the extreme, getting screwed over Bobby's spare desk by a friggin' virgin, of all things.

A friggin' virgin who didn't understand about reach-arounds, obviously.

Dean braced all his weight onto one arm, snaking his other hand down to his neglected dick. As soon as he started stroking, the pain began to change and transform, melting away into a bone-deep, aching pleasure. Cas must've felt the change, too, for he groaned quietly against Dean's neck and changed his angle a little, getting in even deeper and giving Dean's ass a damned good pounding. Dean could concede that Cas caught on quick, for a virgin.

When Cas stood straighter, pushing Dean's shirts higher up his back and holding tight to Dean's hips, Dean knew he must be watching. Knew Cas must be staring, enthralled, at the sight of his rigid cock sliding in and out of Dean's body. That image was enough to make Dean's balls pull up tight, warmth pool low in his belly as he jerked himself closer to the finish line. When he felt the point of a piece of fabric trailing up and down on his lower back, when he realised that was Castiel's stupid fucking _tie_ , all bets were off – Dean angled his cock downward in time to come on the metal floor rather than on the papers strewn over the desk.

Behind him, Cas opened his mouth on the curve of Dean's left shoulder blade, muffling his shout as he emptied himself into Dean. It had been quick and inelegant, but they'd finally done it, finally actually fucked instead of just looking like they were gonna all the damned time.

Dean's breath was coming out shaky and Cas didn't seem inclined to let go of his hips just yet. There would be bruises, Dean was sure. Bruises from Cas' hands on his hips to match all the others he was sporting. Dean coughed lightly and rolled his shoulders, the action seeming to jolt Cas out of whatever stunned afterglow he was currently experiencing and easing himself gently out of Dean's body.

A rustle of clothing accompanied Cas putting his dick away and straightening his clothes. Dean stood and turned around, only to find himself alone in the panic room.

'Why, you cowardly fucking…' He shook his head and pulled his pants up, muttering under his breath about angels taking the concept of "love 'em and leave 'em" to new lows as he re-zipped. Just as he was re-buckling his belt, Cas reappeared in the room, holding a round tub of water with a washcloth floating in it. He met Dean's surprised gaze directly, unflinching, and Dean mentally retracted his statement involving the word "cowardly".

They didn't speak a word while Castiel tended Dean's injuries, while Cas tenderly washed away the blood he himself had spilled. Their gazes never drifted far from each other though.

When Dean was as fixed up as he was going to get, Cas stopped briefly by the desk to lean down and wipe up the puddle of cold come from the floor. Throwing the washcloth back into the water, he then reached into a trenchcoat pocket and retrieved a pair of Dean's own handcuffs.

'That really necessary?' Dean groaned at him, though he didn't offer any resistance to the chrome being snapped around his wrist.

'You honestly need to ask?' Castiel countered, gaze flicking briefly at the cupboard door across the room where Dean's banishing sigil was still caked on in long-dried blood.

Dean hung his head, abashed, and let Cas snap the other chrome cuff onto the bedframe. 'Does it, ah, does it hurt? Getting the banishing whammy put on you, I mean?'

Cas looked down at him sadly. 'Why do you think it makes us scream?' He reached two fingers toward Dean and everything went dark.

 

  
**Part III – God bless the prostate gland**  


  
The first time they made love, Cas found him in Cicero's skeeviest motel on the day he left the Braedons.

'How? How the fuck?' Dean croaked, one hand skating subconsciously over his ribcage.

'Dean.' And how had Dean forgotten, so quickly, that Cas could say his name so downright _fondly_ as that? 'Cicero is not a large place. And your car is particularly distinctive from the air.'

'Oh.'

For an extended moment, they simply stared at each other over the scant inches of Dean's personal space. Just like old times, almost.

'I don't mean to imply, of course,' Cas suddenly added, 'that she isn't distinctive at ground-level as well.'

Dean wanted to be able to say something – a "thank-you", a "fuck off", a "sorry" – anything, really, but his larynx suddenly wasn't even letting him get out the one stupid syllable of his friend's nickname. His throat only clicked when he tried.

Instead, Dean simply leaned forward, a little too heavily perhaps, but he knew how strong Cas was and knew equally well that Cas would take his weight for him. He let his face fall into the crook of Cas' neck, nose squishing against the collar of pristine white shirt, and let Cas bear him up. When he felt the firm press of Cas' arms encircling him, the words just started pouring out, babbling out of him all tumbled together. Words about failing and fucking up and falling, about trying and surviving and guilt and not working, about the hole inside himself that was so freaking big he expected people to walk right through him without noticing. Through it all, Cas simply held him, his body solid, his stance never wavering, standing the ground for both of them until Dean had managed to calm himself.

'I can't do it, Cas. I've tried, honest I have.'

'I know you have. I've, ah, kept an eye on you these past months.'

Dean resisted the temptation – just – of surreptitiously wiping his nose on the trenchcoat and swiped at it with a hand instead as he stood himself up a little straighter. Castiel's arms dropped to his sides, but Dean's personal space remained shared. 'You've been watching me? From up in Heaven?'

'When I had a moment or two.'

'Why didn't you fucking call? Or visit or something?'

'Because you were trying to start a new life, Dean. I didn't wish to interfere.'

'Huh. S'not like there was all that much to be interfered with…'

Cas blinked slowly at that. 'How do you mean?'

Dean finally stepped away, pacing a few steps over the worn carpet, putting some space between them. 'Me and Lisa, we weren't… I mean, I tried – shit, I don't know how to explain any of this, Cas.' Frustrated, he rubbed a hand over his face and fixed Cas with his gaze, deciding to just suck it up and blurt it out. 'I'm not working,' he said solemnly.

'That isn't your fault,' came the quick reply. 'Much of the Earth is in economic recession. Employment is difficult to come by – '

'That's not what I'm talking about,' Dean cut him off. He made a vague hand motion toward his belt buckle. 'I'm not… you know. Working properly.'

Castiel merely stared at him in puzzlement for a moment, then his eyes suddenly widened. 'Oh.'

'Yeah, exactly. Now ya get it.' Dean moved toward the room's one bed, boots scuffing on the floor, and sat down heavily on the edge.

'From what I understand,' Cas started hesitantly, 'impotence is common in times of grief and mourning.'

Dean scoffed and clasped his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. 'Well, thanks for sharing that.'

Cas moved closer to where Dean sat, looking somewhat – if Dean wasn't mistaken – cautious. Dean lifted his chin and looked up at him, all that expanse of goddamn trenchcoat, that stupid tie Dean had always wanted to constantly fix, the stubble, the navy eyes, the bedhair…

'Missed you, Cas.' The words tumbled out of him before he realised he was even thinking them.

Cas lifted one hand and carefully took hold of Dean's chin. 'Likewise,' he agreed, and bent down to briefly press soft lips to Dean's mouth. When he pulled back again, he looked vaguely guilty, thumb rubbing along Dean's jawline, eyes searching Dean's. 'Was that – ? Do you – ? May I?'

Dean smiled, hearing the Sheriff of Heaven letting his words tumble over each other in nerves. He reached up and twisted the blue length of Castiel's tie in one hand, tugging him forward again. 'You're allowed, Cas. C'mere.'

When the next kiss ended, Cas didn't pull back very far, hovering close, making no move to wrench his tie from Dean's grasp. 'Your, uh, problem. Will you let me help?'

'Dude. You're welcome to try. I'll warn you now though, I haven't got it up in at least three months.' He watched the small frown that darkened Cas' expression and gave the tie in his hand a tiny tug. 'Hey. Lucky for you, I'm a big fan of making out. Get on up here.'

Obediently, Cas set a knee onto the edge of the mattress, in between Dean's legs, and half clambered up onto the bed with him, pushing Dean onto his back as he did so and comfortably settling on top of him. He braced himself above Dean for an extended moment, the two of them very nearly nose to nose, just looking at each other at close quarters. Then Cas brought their mouths together again and they lost themselves a little in the rawness of it. Long, long minutes passed with just kissing, sharing breath, re-learning each other's mouth, each other's taste. Then gradually, between kisses and licks, Cas peeled away each item of clothing Dean wore. Dean just went with it, just let go and allowed Castiel to move him whichever way was necessary in order to get his clothes off, let Cas manhandle him this way and that until he was lying naked on the bed.

'You joining me?' he asked quietly, and Cas was suddenly naked, too, clothes mojo'd away in less than a blink. 'Hmph. Show off.'

They'd never been naked together before, Dean suddenly realised. It even occurred to him to wonder if Cas had ever seen his own borrowed body naked before. He didn't feel like asking about it. Particularly not when the newness of the feeling – of a naked Cas on top of him, sliding against him, using his entire body to stroke against Dean's – was so intoxicating.

'Are you allowed to be doing this stuff?' Dean asked roughly. 'Considering your new job and all?'

'Dean.' Castiel's eyes were bright as he gazed down at him. 'I can do whatever I wish.'

'Yeah? Huh. Sounds like a pretty good job. So, erm, what do you wish to do?'

Cas demonstrated by embarking on an epic mapping of Dean's body with his lips and tongue and fingers. Not an inch of flesh was neglected. Not a patch of skin, by the time he finished, that didn't know him, that didn't know what his mouth felt like upon it. Dean stretched out and offered himself up completely, didn't baulk at Cas nuzzling into his armpit, tried not to ruin the intensifying mood with too much protest when there was accidental tickling. When the muscles of his abdomen jumped as Cas mouthed across his belly, Dean knew he'd managed to keep himself in good form while in retirement. He smiled down at Castiel at that, stroked into his messy hair while Cas gazed at him and sucked lushly on his hipbone.

Dean was grateful when Cas simply kissed and licked at his flaccid cock, not attempting to bully it into doing anything it quite clearly wasn't interested in doing, not bothering to try sucking it into obedience. He was even more grateful that Cas didn't give any outward sign of frustration at the organ's recalcitrance, that he didn't make any remark about it or any ticked off little noises that he wasn't getting the desired result. He just spent the same amount of time on it as he'd given to every other part of Dean's body, treated the flesh there no different to every other inch he'd lavished attention on, and kept going.

It was nice to be treated like such a precious thing, Dean couldn't deny that. Nice being damn near worshipped, nice having his body approached as something to be tasted and explored and revered. He wasn't entirely sure he deserved to be on the receiving end of such treatment, but it'd been a while and he was… well. He didn't like the idea of applying the word "lonely" to himself. Dean Winchester was _not_ a lonely man, goddammit! Especially not in the sex department. He'd have to think of another word.

'Dean?' Cas was rolling Dean's balls gently in one hand. 'Are you alright?'

Dean cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind at the same time, and reached his hands down to Cas' hair, losing his fingers again in the wild darkness of it. 'Yeah, Cas. Yeah, I'm good.'

Castiel knelt up between Dean's spread legs and he was – fuck, he was beautiful. Slender and pale, gently toned and with fine bone structure, he looked powerful despite his lack of bulk. His hip bones were sharp, helping to draw attention down his frame, leading Dean's gaze downward to his full cock. Shit. He'd got that hard just kissing Dean all over? To his credit, Cas still didn't mention it, despite noticing where Dean was looking.

Instead, Cas wrapped his warm, large hands around Dean's ankles and gave Dean a piercing look. 'May I, perhaps, do something rather intimate?'

'As if you haven't been already?'

Cas humoured him with a lopsided half-smile and promptly put Dean's legs up on his shoulders. Okay, that felt a bit vulnerable, but Dean barely had time to contemplate that before Cas was pushing his face into Dean's ass, his nose rubbing along Dean's perineum as he worked his mouth in a place that no one – honest to god, not even the kinkiest, horniest, freakiest chicks he'd ever been with – had ever mouthed at him.

'Ohfuck!' Dean's thighs instinctively fell open a little wider, letting Cas press in closer. 'Shit, Cas, where'd you learn this stuff? Been practicing with someone upstairs the last few months, or what?'

The only answer Castiel deigned to give him to that was to turn his head into Dean's left thigh and nip playfully at the tender skin there before returning to – holy hell! – working his tongue as far into Dean's ass as he could get it. Fine behaviour for an angel to be participating in.

It felt good. God _damn_ , it felt fucking good. Dean could feel his body loosening under Cas' mouth, felt weirdly wet and open, and thought about that hard cock Cas' hipbones seemed to like pointing to.

Dean ground his head back into the mattress, couldn't help moaning at the ceiling. 'C'mon, man. I saw your dick, Cas, I know you've got some fucking you wanna be doing.' He lifted his head up with some effort and peered down the length of his body to find those intense blue eyes staring up at him from between his legs, from where Cas was still going to town on him. 'Ya got me all wet there, baby. Start fucking that thing!'

Shit. Fuck that endorphin-charged porno tongue of his.

But apparently Cas didn't care too much about the ridiculous things that fell out of Dean's mouth. Nor, apparently, did he need to be told twice. One graceful, fluid motion and he was moving up Dean's body, wiping at his face with the back of a hand, letting his cock zero in on where it all too obviously wanted to be. Long fingers took firm hold around the backs of Dean's knees, holding his legs open wide as Cas entered him in one thrust.

'Gawd, Cas…'

It was deep immediately, Cas rolling his hips in a languid circle until he chanced upon the spot that made Dean arch his back up from the bed like he'd just been defibrillated. Cas let go of Dean's legs and leaned forward over him, leaving Dean free to wrap his legs high up around Cas' torso while Cas rode him. He felt a bit like a girl for a moment, flat on his back with his legs in the air and a dude fucking his brains out, but then Cas touched on that spot again and Dean's nervous system lit up.

'Dean. Dean, touching you here, here is… you respond like uh – '

Fucking bastard was driving his dick into Dean over and over at that same spot, watching Dean as intently as he always had. Dean supposed he should've guessed it'd be like that, that Castiel wouldn't quit staring into his soul like he always did, even – especially! – while screwing him through the mattress. Dean wasn't always an eye-contact-during-sex kind of guy. It could be too intimate, too invasive, too personal when all you were after was a quick tumble with something warm and welcoming before moving on. But this. Being locked together so closely with Cas – his friend, his angel, his brother in arms – being face to face with him as they moved together like this, this was _already_ too intimate, too emotionally raw. This was getting damn near spiritual.

And once Dean made his way through that thought process, once he owned up to the fact he was feeling this deep in his heart, deep in his soul, his body rewarded him for his emotional honesty.

He was getting hard.

Cas seemed to realise at the same moment Dean did, one corner of his mouth quirking slightly in the softest, most intimate little smile Dean had ever been on the receiving end of.

'Dean.' He mouthed at Dean's jawline, humming against his skin, brought his hands up to Dean's face and cradled him, pressed kisses across his cheeks and nose and forehead.

'You're always fixin' me, Cas.'

'It's no burden, I assure you.'

Dean burrowed his face into the side of Cas' throat, licked at a rivulet of sweat that ran there and lost himself in the satisfying feel of his dick swelling and growing. _Welcome back, lil' buddy_ , he thought.

'Would you like me to touch you, Dean?'

Dean chuckled against Cas' Adam's apple. 'Oh, hellyes!'

Castiel braced himself differently, worked a hand between their bodies and took a solid hold on Dean's cock. His strokes were quick and dirty, making Dean wonder if Cas somehow knew he liked it like that, or if Cas was getting close himself and needed to hurry things along. Either way, Dean was being jacked just the way he loved best and he was so grateful he could've sobbed with relief.

Being blind-sided by his first orgasm in months was enough to pull declarations out of him. Luckily, Cas was coming at pretty much the same time and Dean was fairly certain his choked back "Love you" got lost somewhere in all the fucking beauty.

 

  
**Part IV – Sonofabitch!**  


  
The second time they made love, Cas told Dean that, yes, of course, he'd heard.

**Author's Note:**

> Written June 2010.


End file.
